


Picard and Q on Demos -- Addendum

by internetname



Series: Demos [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 13:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3136289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/internetname/pseuds/internetname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picard and Q on Demos -- Addendum

**Author's Note:**

> I and some other P/Q writers enjoy making what we call TrekSmut Illustrated Moments. Costumes are emphasized, and the Picard and Q who appear in the stories are usually not Captain Picard and Q of the Continuum. (We also call these "And Then They Fuck" stories. They're short and fun and give them a try!
> 
> Here's a sequel to my TrekSmut Illustrated Moment, "Picard and Q on Demos," which, being a TIM, shouldn't get a sequel,but it's my story and I'll over-extend it if I want to. Very special thanks to Ruth for her beta and the Editrix. 

"Is that the last of them?" 

"Yes." Jean-Luc looked around, hiding his smile. It weren't as if he had that many boxes to keep track of. Some clothes and toiletries, his books, linen, one box of misc., and he had been ready to move in with Q since yesterday. 

No, Q was the one who wasn't ready for this, and he was about to suggest again that they hold off on moving in together when he turned to find his lover staring at him. The box of sheets went heavy in his hands. 

It had only been a few days, a week, really, after months of wanting Q in a way he'd believed his friend could never want him back. It wasn't his fault that Q's current expression drove all thought from his mind except that of urgency. It was a strange look his friend took on, not completely lust, not completely trust, not completely longing, but a mixture of the three, tinged with something more, some sort of caution, almost fear. It made Picard want to rip his clothes off, cuddle with him, and recite poetry to him all at the same time. 

But then Q just smiled, smugly. "Let's get it out of here, then." 

But Picard remembered what he wanted to say. "Q, it's not necessary for us to rush into this. If you're uncomfortable about this at all --" 

"You in some sorta feedback loop? I told you, I want to do this. You told me you want to do this..." 

"Very much." 

Q shrugged. "Then it's settled. Now come on." 

Picard pushed himself out the door, watching as Q followed with his box of books, and the door closed on the cubicle which had been "home" for seven months. He felt nothing now but relief in leaving, and hoped like hell he'd never miss the place. 

God, this felt so wrong. It had felt wrong since the moment Q let him suck him off in the airlock. He knew he'd give everything he had to keep it going, but he also knew any moment Q was going to snap out of his "I've always been het but I have no problem fucking my friend" daze, and then where was Jean-Luc going to be but heartbroken and spoiled for the rest of his life after having it so good? 

Q was swaggering down the corridor now, not at all embarrassed or uncomfortable to be seen with Jean-Luc's stuff in his hands. Several people, Tom, Sven, and Nakeesha among them, passed by with curious expressions Q met with a friendly smile, twice actually stopping to talk. When their eyes slid to Picard, the man knew his own expression was wooden. 

The quarters in Beta Section were significantly bigger than the singles in Main. More than once Picard had wondered if their moving in together weren't some sort of scheme on Q's part for more elbow room. Except that the sex... 

Oh, God. The sex. Picard almost ran into a wall when his eyes closed over the memories. Q had been inside him four times now, three times from the front, and once from the back, when they'd been in a hurry before shift. He'd also let Picard suck him several times, and they'd jerked each other off quite often too. Picard wasn't surprised that Q wanted to take on sexual roles he was used to, and frankly didn't care if he never got to be on top... 

_Well, now, Jean-Luc, that's a lie,_ Picard admonished himself. He'd give a lot to have Q...explore possibilities, but he wasn't about to complain. He wasn't about to do anything that might ruin this prematurely. He wanted nothing more than to stretch it out to its last possible second. 

"Well?" Q asked suddenly, scattering his thoughts as he realized they'd reached their new quarters. "Shall I carry you over the threshold?" He leered and laughed and then waited for Picard to walk through the open door. 

They'd been to the room before, of course. The four walls were the same off-white, sound-proofed planes he'd had before. They were just much farther apart from each other. There was one bed, a tad less than twice as big as the one he'd slept in for seven months, two desks, two chairs, one nightstand. Q's stuff was already scattered around, half-unpacked. Picard had been surprised to find out that his friend kept a secret stash of _National Geographics_ and had a box of sweaters he never wore that his mother knitted a size too small. Picard walked in quickly, keeping his face blank, and set his last box on his desk, the one on the right. 

Q set his load down on the desk as well, and then reached over and down to plant a loud kiss on Jean-Luc's neck. It was an affectionate gesture, but Picard felt his body's lust rev into high speed and clenched his fists, trying to look up and smile back casually. 

Q scowled at him. "What's wrong? You've been tense all day." 

"Nothing's wrong," Picard said quickly. 

Q kept scowling, but his eyes were glittering as he stepped sideways and pushed Picard back against the desk. "I bet I know what it is," he whispered, his hand reaching down to caress the bulge in his partner's khaki pants. Jean-Luc shuddered and couldn't keep back a soft moan. Q chuckled. "You want it all the time, don't you? My poor little Johnny." 

Picard _hated_ to be called "little," and Q knew it. A surge of both anger and lust went through him, and he toyed with the image of throwing Q to the bed and fucking him...and then watching as Q hated him forever. It was becoming increasingly clear Q simply had no interest in being on the bottom. 

_So, is that what this is going to be? Am I going to be Q's little wife?_ Jean-Luc was well aware that many gay men were "catchers" all the time without its compromising their position in the relationship, but the problem was that he really _wanted_ to be inside Q, desperately. He wanted to know Q trusted him that much, he wanted to make Q feel that good, and...well, he just wanted inside that fabulously mobile, incredibly sexy body. Q would be so tight and hot. The man threw off energy like a reactor. Jean-Luc loved to hold him close at night, warming himself on Q's bodyheat, resting his head on the soft belly of his best friend. 

"Hey...Jean-Luc," Q's voice was suddenly calling, and the man looked up quickly, smiling off his scowl. He reached up quickly and brushed a kiss across Q's mouth, but Q only frowned. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing," Picard said firmly, pressing his groin against Q's hip with a grin. "Want to stand there a little while I make it worth your while?" 

But Q put his hands on Jean-Luc's shoulders, shaking him just slightly. "Don't do that. Don't smile and come on to me when you're pissed. Shit, Johnny, you used to rip me a new one when I bugged you about something. Ever since we've been fucking it's like you won't say boo to me. It's too weird. I don't like it." 

"What do you want me to do? Scream at you like some sort of...nag?" 

Now Q scowled, deeply. "'Nag?' That's not what you were going to say, was it?" Those deep brown eyes took on a thoughtful look, and Jean-Luc braced himself. Q got by mostly on instincts, as though the world were too simple to require him to really use his brain except in emergencies. But when Q wanted to, he could be almost frighteningly intelligent, seeing things people shouldn't be able to see just because they wanted to. 

"Do you feel like I'm treating you like you're my wife, is that it?" Q said, scoring another point for his ulterior IQ and knocking Picard's fury up another notch. "I think I treat you pretty much the same as always." 

"Right, Q," Picard found himself snarling, even though he knew Q was actually correct. "You won't even suck --" He clamped his lips together hard, cursing himself, his eyes half-closed against the shame of having started the end so soon. 

"Jean-Luc," Q whispered. "You want that? But...I tried, and you wouldn't let me." 

Hazel eyes flew open, and shock loosened Picard's tongue. "What are you talking about?" 

"The day before yesterday. We were about to get up for shift, but we had enough time for a little sex, and I was kissing your stomach, and then you rolled me over like you didn't want me to, and we ended up jerking each other off." 

Jean-Luc realized he was trembling, and rock-hard. "I did it...to keep from begging...I didn't -- I don't want to scare you off." 

Q shook his head very slowly, that look that undid his lover returning like a tangible shine in those dark eyes, matched by the half-smile of his lips. 

"Jean-Luc, why won't you just believe that I want to be here? Why can't you just accept that I'm in this for keeps?" 

Picard tried to think of something to say, and felt his chest tighten him into silence. Q leaned down as though to kiss him, then firmly shoved him away from the desk, then back over the bed. He made to sit up, but Q laid down beside him quickly, placing a hand over his chest and pressing down firmly. 

"Lie back, Jean-Luc, and stay very, very still." 

His brain wasn't working, but his body obeyed anyway. He realized he was shaking, wanting whatever Q gave him, without question. 

God, he was terrified. He wasn't this person who longed so much for another's touch that he was annihilated by it. He existed as more than this. He had to be more than the man spreading his arms out across the bed, looking up into eyes which right this minute looked as though they loved him, and longed for him as well. 

"Please, Q," he heard this person who wasn't himself beg, "do whatever you want with me. Whatever you want, whenever you want." 

"I want you without these clothes," Q snarled, ripping them off. "From now on, when we're in here, just take off your clothes before you do anything else." 

"You too." Jean-Luc gasped as the warm air of the room and Q's burning gaze mingled over his exposed skin. 

Q sighed and stripped himself bare in seconds. "Yes, me too." 

Q's endlessly erotic body pressed against him, pressing him down, wanting him. Picard could feel that stab into his thigh that meant everything was all right, and smiled. 

"Tell me I'm what you want," he breathed. 

"Of course you're what I want. I want you so much it's all I think about anymore." Q's fingers moved lightly over his face. "Just lie there and don't say anything for a while, okay?" Picard shuddered again and nodded. He couldn't take this. He didn't know what this meant. But Q was kissing the curve of his chin and he didn't want anything more in the universe. Then the kisses moved down his neck, and he knew any second he was going to lose it. He could feel his muscles gathering to push Q away. What the fuck did this mean, anyway, wanting something so much he was going to destroy it before...before what? What was the _matter_ with him? Q wanted him to lie there. Couldn't he do that much? 

"You taste like sunlight," Q murmured against his neck, and it was too much. Picard fought against it with all he had, but it was stronger than he was, and in the end, he didn't really want to resist. 

Q stilled, then brought his head up and looked carefully into Jean-Luc's face. 

"Why are you crying?" 

Picard wanted to explain. He wanted to do a lot of things. As it was, he just clamped down on further tears and pulled on Q's shoulders, willing him closer. 

Then Q's lips were on his left nipple, and Jean-Luc was writhing and moaning and he didn't give a fuck about anything except how he felt right now. Q's lips moved down to his belly, and he shouted something -- he had no idea what -- and then Q's hot mouth moved lower, and everything focused on the violent pounding of that pulse, and then there was a kiss on the tip of his penis, and he screamed and arched into it and wanted to come too much to manage it. 

"Shhhh," came that admonition again. "God, _look_ at you." 

Wet heat surrounded the head of his penis and then what was there but sensation? He was, perhaps, somewhere, vaguely aware that Q fumbled a bit, that he seemed a little uncertain, but all that mattered was that Q was sucking on his cock, trying to bring him pleasure. There was a tongue licking over the sensitive spot under his glans, and deft fingers undulating his sac, and pressure now as Q sucked, and he shouted out a warning. The mouth withdrew, but not the fingers, and he shot into the air, seeing Q's face in his mind while the hot spurts landed on his own chest. He screamed something he didn't catch, and then didn't think about anything for a long while: not unconscious, just unheeding. 

Q's arms held him as he came back to himself, and as he stirred he heard his lover chuckle slightly. The warm arms tightened, and the laughter continued until Jean-Luc focused enough to mumble: 

"What's so funny?" 

"That was fun. Get your wind back. I want to do it again." 

"I'm not an amusement park ride." 

"Roller-coasters have nothing on watching you come." 

"You've seen me do that before." 

"Hmm. It was special this time." 

"Why?" 

Q smiled into Picard's curious expression, sighed smugly, and stretched, luxuriously. 

"I wasn't sure I could pull it off. Besides, I didn't know you'd be so..." Q's left hand trailed up his chest, playing with the soft hair it found. "...easy to manipulate. It makes me wonder what else I'm missing out on." 

Picard brow rose, intrigued and smug himself. "I'm actually rather surprised, you know, Q. Considering all those women you went through, I would have thought you'd pretty much done it all." 

Q shrugged. "Like I told you before, I've always been concerned more with what to do with her." 

"So altruistic." 

Q shook his head, frowning. "No, that wasn't...It was just, well, I didn't know them." A very strange look passed over Q's face then, one Picard hadn't seen before. 

"What is it?" 

"I just realized. Shit, I sound dumb." 

"What? Tell me." 

Q smiled ruefully at Picard's avid tone. "Well, I realized you're the only lover I've ever had I really trusted. The idea, before, being at some chick's mercy, giving her power over me, you know. I didn't like it. Even when she was sucking me, I would try to...direct the show." 

Jean-Luc silently reviewed every time he'd had Q in his mouth, and, sensing it, Q laughed. 

"No, not with you, as you see." Q shrugged again, and began tugging at the hairs on Picard's chest, twirling them around his fingertips. "I guess I'd pretty much let you do anything you wanted with me," he said, his flushed face at odds with the controlled lightness of his voice. "I mean, if I didn't like it, you'd stop, wouldn't you?" 

"Of course," Jean-Luc managed to say, somehow. He was starting to feel very warm again, never mind how hard he'd come a while ago. The slow burn was good. He needed to take his time with this. He raised himself on one elbow, bent down, and kissed Q deeply, savoring every sensation from it, revering this moment. Then he pulled back, and smiled into Q's slightly nervous eyes. 

"Let's break in our new shower," he murmured. 

Q got up with him willingly enough, following him into the bathroom, where they had a shower stall just as tiny as the ones they'd had before. Central evidently didn't feel people living together needed extra room, something Q had remarked upon sourly the first time they'd checked out their new digs. Now they maneuvered in tight and turned on the water, keying in both their ration codes to get an extra-long spray. 

Only a few seconds passed before Q realized he wasn't supposed to be doing anything more than letting Picard soap him up. Sighing, and smiling, he let his hands fall to his sides and turned obediently as Jean-Luc worked a thick lather over his chest, arms, shoulders, neck, and face (being very careful about soap in the eyes), and then down over his legs, even kneeling to scrub his feet. Q sighed, more than a little aroused by the tickling, then pretended to growl with disappointment when Picard put his hands on his hips and turned his lover around. Now the soapy hands worked their way up the back of his legs, carefully cleaning his cleft, even gently scrubbing his anus, and the perineum, then up his back, slowly, to his shoulders again. Again Q was turned around and the soapy hands lightly slid down to his erect cock, stroking him, until Q began to thrust into that slick warmth. 

But Picard didn't let him continue, and raised his hands, washing off the soap, before he keyed off the shower and opened the frosted door. Next Q found himself being dried, thoroughly, his skin tingling with the rough texture of the towels Jean-Luc used before he dried himself, efficiently, and then carried the wettest towel with them as he led Q back to the bed. 

"I could get used to this sort of treatment, Johnny," Q murmured almost sleepily as Picard gently lowered him onto the bed, not making a big deal of having Q settle on his stomach. 

"Hmmm," his lover responded softly, straddling Q's lower back -- though supporting most of the weight on his own legs -- as he rubbed on Q's shoulders a moment, then followed the muscles and tendons down his back. To his relief, Q really was as relaxed as he seemed, and now Jean-Luc bent down to trace the path of his hands with his lips, nibbling just slightly on those hot spots he'd already found. By the time he'd made it to Q's lower back, biting very softly near the base of his spine, Q was moaning slightly, and seemed automatically to spread his legs so Picard could settle in between them. 

With his fingertips, and then his lips, he trailed patterns all over the faintly furred, nicely muscular backside, and then he let his left hand's fingers slide into the cleft. 

"Jean-Luc," Q said faintly, and Picard hesitated, but the name was followed by a shiver, and the way Q pressed his hips into the bed told him he was getting hard. Picard smiled and allowed his fingers to trace the ring of muscle which protected Q's rectum, and which he was going to get relaxed in the best way there was. 

Despite the shower, Q's natural musky smell filled him as Picard drew his tongue along Q's body, stopping at his anus, kissing lightly, then continuing down the smooth tissue, almost to his balls, and then back up, pausing again at his anus, and darting his tongue out to flick at the rim. 

"Oh," Q groaned with thick lust. "That's so _nasty._ Do it some more." 

Picard chuckled and complied, licking all around the opening to Q's body, feeling the strong muscles of Q's legs jerk under him, listening to Q's moans and gasps. When Q seemed to be relaxing into this new sensation, he pushed more forcefully with his tongue, then smoothly replaced it with his finger, using first the saliva, then oil from the tube he'd grabbed while Q was lying down, to ease the way. Q tensed again, belatedly, then chuffed with pleasure as Jean-Luc stroked his small gland, and relaxed again. 

"Oh, yes," Q murmured. "Just go ahead and do it. Do it, Johnny." 

"Soon. I'll be inside you soon." He added another finger. He knew he was going to have to work up to three, and push them in deep, to get Q ready, which meant it wasn't going to be "soon" enough for him, not by half. Whatever luxury of time he'd had earlier was all gone now. He felt like he'd been hard forever, and he'd already dripped twice onto the bed. 

"I love you," he couldn't help saying, hoping as always it didn't sound too demanding. 

"Mmmmmm, love you too, Johnny." 

He froze, then restarted himself with an inner snarl. God, it felt too good to hear that. Q needed him to stay focused and in control right now. Besides, Q wasn't exactly saying those words at the most trustworthy time. 

"Did you hear me, Jean-Luc?" 

"Yes." He whispered it, afraid the word might shatter him. 

"I've never...ohhhh, shit, that feels so hot...never said that to anyone except my parents and my sister." Jean-Luc shuddered and focused everything on working in his third finger. Q was relaxing quickly, for a virgin. It wouldn't be long. "Don't you believe me?" 

Picard opened his mouth, found he couldn't speak, and then dropped down to rain kisses over Q's buttocks and lower back. 

"I fucking _love you,_ Jean-Luc. I need you to believe me. You think I'd let you do this if I didn't?" 

Q shivered as Picard's fingers stopped moving, and Jean-Luc saw the sudden tension in his lover's shoulders. 

"Are you doing this as some sort of favor, Q?" 

"Johnny, listen to me carefully." Q rolled over onto his back, moaning as Picard removed his hand. He sat up slightly, looking into his eyes. "I want you to fuck me, you understand? I _want_ it." 

Picard thought he would strangle on his suspicions. "Why? Why would you, after all this time?" 

"We've only been together a week." 

"You're in your forties, Q! Why do I --" The baritone broke slightly, and again he was struggling against the unwelcome heat in his face, behind his eyes. "Why the hell do I get to be so lucky that you were just waiting for me to come along?" 

"I wasn't waiting for you, Jean-Luc. I never thought you'd happen to me in a billion years. You've...captured me, you _won_ me, don't you get it? I loved you as my friend, and now I want to spend the rest of my life making love with you. And right now..." He grabbed a pillow from beside his head and shoved it under his own hips, then pulled his legs back. "...I'm tired of watching you enjoy being fucked so much and not knowing what it feels like. So get inside me before I get really, really furious with you." 

Jean-Luc couldn't look too carefully at Q as he leaned over that long, sweat-shiny body, breathing in deeply the smells of soap and salt and semen. With his oiled hand he stroked himself carefully, covering himself completely without too much further stimulation. He didn't want to see Q's reaction if he accidentally came all over that slightly rounded belly he loved to use as a pillow, let alone that chest he loved to lick and suckle and press his own chest against. 

By the time he'd put the blunt, purple-red knob of his penis to Q's opening, he had to close his eyes, but they flew open at Q's first startled gasp. 

"So soft," that sensuous voice sighed. "You won't hurt me." 

Picard let that trust cut through him, separating him from the desire to slam into that tight heat over and over. Instead, he eased in, watching Q carefully for any sign of pain or discomfort. Q's face betrayed nothing but concentration and surprise until Picard was all the way in, resting a moment against him, trying not to think about being buried inside Q's ass. 

"Johnny..." Q murmured, and Picard saw that he looked slightly embarrassed. 

"What, Q? Is something wrong?" 

"It feels...it feels..." Q opened his eyes, frowning slightly and sounding suddenly like a puzzled child. "It feels like I'm taking a huge dump." 

Picard laughed, feeling the tension ease in his shoulders. "Yes, it should. Is that bad?" 

"Well..." Q squirmed, and Picard very gently withdrew and thrust, making sure to angle against Q's prostate. "Uggghhh. Oh, do that one again." 

Picard complied, several times. 

"Ohhhhh, it builds, doesn't it? I'm...oh, oh yes, Johnny, that's good. Oh! Oh, fuck! Oh, _fuck!_ What...it doesn't feel anything like it looks, I gotta tell you. Oh, fucking, yes! Yes! Harder!" 

Picard increased his thrusting pressure about .2%. 

"Harder, damnit, Johnny!" 

"I don't want to...hurt you." 

"Har...der!" Q moved against him, trying to speed him up, but Picard kept the rhythm smooth. Faintly, he realized his fingers were clenched into cruel fists that would leave nail marks in his palms. Q screamed hoarsely in frustration. "I fucking pound into you when you ask for it, Jean-Luc! Please!" 

He allowed his legs to move faster, his hips to help him thrust, and then, what he feared would happen happened, and he lost himself in fucking Q, moving faster and faster, going in deep and hard, pulling out almost to his tip, then slamming back in. He was screaming now, almost drowned out by Q's encouraging cries, furious at himself for the orgasm that was burning sparks behind his eyes. He was going to lose it and pass out. He was going to lose it and Q would kill him. He was...he was about to forget something very simple. 

With a throaty cackle he reached for Q's red, glistening erection and stroked twice before Q came over all them both, his passage spasming around Picard's cock as it emptied inside the burning warmth of his lover's body. They were both screaming each other's name, and somehow they managed to catch each other in their arms as they dove into the fire and knew only the bliss that burned and burned until it released them, and together they tumbled down into the perfect, blessed dark. 

THE END


End file.
